


Graveyard Tears

by mybooksluvme



Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon), batfam - Fandom
Genre: Deathanniversary, Gen, Mentionedmurder, Sorryisuck, angstwithahappyending, badwriting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybooksluvme/pseuds/mybooksluvme
Summary: Dick forgot flowers on his way to the cemetery. He stops to pick some daises, but meets an unlikely friend.





	Graveyard Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I actually posted something... heh. It's not great quality, but I tried. I hope you enjoy!

May 31st.

It comes and goes every year, no matter what anyone does.

The boy knows that, he just wishes it wouldn’t come. Ever. It brought back so many painful memories that he didn’t want. But unfortunately, he couldn’t avoid it, couldn’t forget.

So, here he was, in a stranger’s yard, snagging a few flowers on his way to the cemetery to honor his parent’s memory. It was a sunny day, spring bursting in from all corners of the Earth, spreading happiness to everyone. Or almost everyone.

Dick sighed, looking down at the beautiful flowers he was ‘stealing’. He technically wouldn’t call it stealing, just elongated borrowing. For forever. Whatever, he was sure it wasn’t such a big deal.

Dick gazed at the daisies in his hand, the dew perched on the delicate petals. A sad smile fell upon his face, tears forming in his eyes. These were his mom’s favorite flower.

_“Hey Mom! Look at this pretty flower I found!” Dick cried, racing up to his mother, who was laughing._

_“Oh, Dickie, you found my favorite flower! Do you know why it’s my favorite?” She asked, eyes crinkling with a smile._

_Dick shook his head, beaming from ear to ear._

_“It makes me think of sunshine. And sunshine makes me think of you and your dad.”_

“Hey, you! Yeah, you!”

The angry, southern voice startled Dick, and he jumped up from his squat, dropping his flowers and hastily wiping his eyes.

“Just what do you think yer doing?” The voice belonged to an older man, grey hair balding at the top. His round glasses were obviously thick, and they blatantly contrasted to his small, boney form.

“I, um, I was just, uh…” words failed Dick as he stuttered, heart racing. Was he going to call the cops? He seemed pretty mad. Bruce would ground Robin from patrol for _months_.

“I hope the girl you’re getting them flowers for is a real beauty,” he mumbled, obviously pissed this scrawny teen was snagging from his garden.

“I’m sorry sir, but they’re not for a girl…” Dick said, trailing off. He had no idea how to tell this old man that he forgot to get flowers on the way to the cemetery.

“Psssh, that’s rubbish, son. Every kid with that look on yer face is nervous about some girl. Well, since ya stole my daisies, I’ma gonna go see your girl with ya.”

He stated it very matter of factly, leaving no room for Dick to explain or talk back.

“Well, let’s get goin, son.”

Dick stared as the man stomped past him into the street. He turned back to Dick and gestured his head in a way that meant “Come on kid, I ain’t got all day.”

Dick scrambled to grab the flowers he dropped and raced to catch up with the old man, who had started walking already. He was surprisingly fast for an old dude.

“The name’s John Hickam.”

“What?” Dick had expected the trip to be awkwardly silent, as he tended to be with strangers.

“My name, kid. You’re supposed to answer with yurs.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. My name’s Richard, sir.”

“Just call me John, kid, no need to be so proper,” he stated, eyeballing Dick.

“Okay… John.”

It was always so weird to call adults by their first name.

John grunted with satisfaction and nodded his head.

“So, where we goin, Richard?”

Dick looked up ahead and saw the gates to the cemetery.

“Just up ahead John.”

“But there ain’t no houses ‘round here kid. Where are we goin’ exactly?” John asked with confusion lacing his slurred words.

“…The cemetery,” Dick whispered.

It always made him uncomfortable when he had to explain to people about his parents and why he lived with Bruce. The questions were definitely the worst part.

Surprisingly, John didn’t say anything, just sort of slowed a bit.

After a bout of silence, John spoke up.

“Guess you wern’t lyin’ when you said you ain’t seein’ no girl.”

“No, sir. I wasn’t lying,” Dick whispered, tears clogging his throat up.

“C’mere,” John mumbled, and awkwardly gave Dick a sort of side hug while he wiped his eyes.

They continued to walk, and soon reached the gates, Dick staring at the ground at embarrassment for crying.

Staring up at the tall gates, tears once again came to his eyes. He felt like such a child for crying.

Dick reached his hand out and opened the gate, a loud screeching making him flinch. As they traversed the grave stones, his eyes finally landed on the two labeled _John and Mary Grayson, Beloved Mother and Father._

He felt John’s eyes on him as he laid the daises on his mother’s grave.

“Here, mom. I know these are your favorite flowers,” Dick gasped, tears falling down his face, “I hope you and dad are happy up there.”

He stood and cried. Just cried. Not the sobbing your heart out crying. No, it was the crying of someone who’s given up hope. The tears of a child that lost all of their loved ones. The tears of a lonely, heartbroken boy.

oOo

“Hey, John!”

“Richard! Is it that time of year again?”

“Yup, but it’s all good,” Dick smiled, bending over to pick some daises out of John’s garden.

It had been five years since he had met John. Every year the anniversary came, Dick would stop by his house, get the flowers, and John would accompany him to the graveyard. Bruce always wondered why Dick came back beaming after visiting his parents.

They began the short journey to the gates, talking and laughing like old friends. Everything wasn’t okay, but it was better. Everything always gets better, even in the darkest days. Dick had found his light, and he planned on never letting it go.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my bad writing all the way to the end! If you have questions or comments, feel free to tell me! Also, John isn't drunk he's just really Southern.


End file.
